Dark of the Sun (15 page)
Authors: Chelsea Quinn Yarbro
Tags: #Fantasy, #Fiction, #General, #Historical, #Horror, #Vampires, #Transylvania (Romania), #Krakatoa (Indonesia), #Volcanic Eruptions
“Do you think the other man will be back?” Ro-shei asked in order to put his mind on something other than his dead mare.
“I doubt it. I think the three of them constitute the entire company, and with Holin-Gol so near, he would be a fool to attempt another attack alone. If we were in the forest or in the dry wastes where one man could create an ambush, then there might be trouble.” He pointed. “The town is less than half a li ahead of us, and we will be within the gates shortly.”
“I suppose we would do well to report the incident,” Ro-shei said.
“We have no reason not to do so.” Zangi-Ragozh squinted into the bright smudge of sunlight in the thinning mists. “The sun lacks power.”
“With so much fog, it is hardly surprising,” said Ro-shei, not fully paying attention.
“No, that is not what I mean: even without the fog, the sun is not as potent as I would expect it to be in late spring. It is vitiated, as if its light gave no heat. It might as well be hidden behind heavy clouds for all the vigor it provides the land.” Zangi-Ragozh stared thoughtfully at the dark mass of the walled town that loomed ahead in the mist, then turned his head to count the docks and wharves that lined the riverbank with increasing frequency. “I wonder if there have been robberies here, or thefts from the boats and barges?”
“Do you suppose the local Magistrate would let it be known if there were?” Ro-shei laughed harshly.
“He might, if the problem were severe enough,” said Zangi-Ragozh, and slowed the horses to a walk.
Ro-shei clapped his hands together. “That would mean the region would be almost in open rebellion.”
“That may yet come,” said Zangi-Ragozh.
“Most of the barbarous tribes go westward, not to the south,” said Ro-shei.
“Because the Great Wall keeps them out,” said Zangi-Ragozh. “But here in Holin-Gol there is a break in the wall, as there is at Wu-Wei. Such places could become centers for rebellion if the northern horsemen ever got through the Great Wall.”
“Holin-Gol and Wu-Wei are both on the southern side of the Great Wall, and the gates they possess are fortified,” Ro-shei reminded him. “There are garrisons of soldiers in both towns, and their commanders have a great deal of autonomy in meeting threats.”
“One day that could work to the Emperor’s disadvantage,” said Zangi-Ragozh, switching back to Chinese.
“Which Emperor?” Ro-shei asked in Latin.
“My point exactly,” said Zangi-Ragozh, and prepared to face the customs agents and Guard waiting just inside the double gates of Holin-Gol.
The duties demanded to enter the town were high—more than they were for two wagons at Lo-Yang—and taken peremptorily. With a studied lack of respect, they were directed to the Travelers’ Quarter of the town and given the names of four inns from which to choose lodging, then curtly advised to move on.
“There is one thing I think we should mention: we were attacked by three highwaymen as we approached the town, just at dawn,” said Zangi-Ragozh as he handed over a silver bar and two strings of copper cash; if the slighting demeanor of the Guard and customs agent offended him, he hid it well enough.
The Guard officer sighed. “This morning, you mean?”
“Yes. This morning, on the main road beside the river. We left the barge on which we had traveled at the dock, and as we made for your gates, the three attempted to steal our horses and the wagon,” Zangi-Ragozh said very patiently.
“What did they do?” The Guard seemed disinterested in the answer.
“They rode up on horseback, armed with swords and cudgels, and probably knives as well, but I did not specifically see any,” said Zangi-Ragozh.
“How did you escape them?” The Guard signaled to a customs scribe, his curiosity belatedly awakened. “Take this down.”
The scribe bustled over, his brush at the ready, his paper spread on a portable table, his stance obsequious. “As you wish, Captain Ruo.”
Zangi-Ragozh recounted the morning incident, ending, “I cannot tell you if the two highwaymen were killed or only injured. I did not think it wise to linger.”
“Wise enough,” said Captain Ruo. “I will send out a party of soldiers to look for them later this morning. Pass on!”
“The markets are half-empty,” Ro-shei observed as they approached the best of the four inns the Guard had recommended.
“This town should be busy at this time of year,” Zangi-Ragozh added as he turned into the innyard of the Shifting Sands, noticing as he did that the stables were far from full.
“More bad weather come up from the south,” Ro-shei suggested as Zangi-Ragozh drew his pair to a halt; he climbed down to take the leads of the team. “I’d expect a groom to be available to—” Before he could say anything more, a short, middle-aged man came out of the inn; he was shaped like a ginger-jar, with a powerful upper body tapering to small, out-turned feet. His features were set and broad, showing as much Mongol as Chinese lineage. “The landlord,” Ro-shei guessed aloud.
“Innkeeper; my father-in-law is landlord,” the man corrected. “Kittu is my family name. I welcome you to the Shifting Sands.”
“I am Zangi-Ragozh, a foreign merchant, coming from Yang-Chau,” he said as he got off his box.
“You have come a very long way,” Kittu said, clapping his hands. “Hagai, Jinje, come here!” Then he bowed to Zangi-Ragozh. “I am sorry. Those laggards have been shirking their duties to gamble. Jinge! Come at once! Hagai!”
There was a flurry of activity on the far side of the stable, and then a pair of youths came rushing out into the innyard, one of them shoving a fistful of copper cash into his pocket. “Sorry, Kittu,” said this lad. “Business has been so slow that—”
“All the more reason you should be ready to attend to our guests,” Kittu exclaimed, and glared at the two.
“Hagai said that you wouldn’t mind,” Jinje complained.
“It sounds too slim an excuse to me, and one that is more wishful thinking than fact, as you will learn before you have your supper,” said Kittu. “Get to work for these good merchants.” He clapped his hands again and turned back to Zangi-Ragozh and Ro-shei. “I will offer you my best rooms—two on the main floor across from the dining room, each with a bed and a table, no sharing with other travelers. They cost a bit more, but—”
“That will be satisfactory,” said Zangi-Ragozh, preparing to pull a string of silver cash from his sleeve.
“Is there anything else I might provide?” Kittu asked. “As an innkeeper, I wish my guests to be well-satisfied with their stay here.” He augmented this last with a broad wink.
“A bath would be welcome,” said Zangi-Ragozh as if wholly unaware of the larger implications of Kittu’s offer. “I trust you have a bath-house? And someone who can wash some clothing?” He saw the innkeeper nodding in response to each question and smiled. “My traveling companion would like to find a market to buy a duck or a chicken for his meal. And if there is an establishment where you recommend the women …” He left the last unsaid.
“We have a bath-house which can be heated for your use. As to the fowl, there is a market two streets away where the farmers bring their wares for sale. If there are ducks or chickens to be had just now, you may find them there. If you will bring the bird to the kitchen, the cook will prepare it in any manner you like.” Kittu rubbed his hands together as if eager to tend to the meal himself.
“I regret that the practice among my people requires us to take our meals in private,” said Ro-shei, interrupting Kittu with a deferential nod. “We have certain rites that must be—”
Kittu held up his hands. “Say no more. All foreigners have their ways.”
“Very true,” Ro-shei said.
“Well, provided you don’t get blood all over the floor, then do as your customs demand of you.” Kittu started back for his inn, motioning to Zangi-Ragozh and Ro-shei to follow him. “Don’t worry about your things: those two scamps will be far more careful now than if they hadn’t been caught neglecting their duties. They won’t steal, either. They know I’d have both their right hands if they should take so much as a buckle from you.” He stepped into the reception area, nodding toward the dining room. “Food is served four times a day. We don’t do the midnight meals they do in the southlands.”
“Given where you are, there are probably regulations against it,” said Zangi-Ragozh. “When I was last through here, all businesses had to be shut by nightfall.”
“We innkeepers have a little leeway, as do restaurants, entertainers, and licensed brothels, but yes, you will find that we often curtail our work as soon as the Great Gates are shut. The Guard patrols the streets and the army mans the Great North Gate. No barges can tie up within the town walls, as you know.” He indicated a broad corridor. “The rooms I mentioned are down there. I have nine other guests just now, and only one of them is in, so you have the inn almost completely to yourselves.”
“I’m sorry your business is down,” said Zangi-Ragozh.
“It will improve again, in time. It is not as if my circumstances are unusual.” He pointed toward the north wall. “The bath-house is just there, on the far side of the inn from the latrines. The water is wholesome and the tubs are scrubbed with every new moon. You may reach it through the door between the dining room and the kitchens.”
“If you will have the bath-house heated?” Zangi-Ragozh offered a handful of coins.
“Certainly.” Kittu held out his hand. “That will be four silver cash. The price is high because of the unusual cold—we must burn more wood to heat it, and to keep it warm.”
“I grasp the problem,” said Zangi-Ragozh.
“Without arguments?” Kittu marveled. “Then you are a most remarkable merchant.”
“Would the prices be any less elsewhere?” Zangi-Ragozh asked.
“Probably not,” said Kittu.
“Then what would be the point in disputing?” Zangi-Ragozh gestured the issue away. “I have three large chests in the wagon, set in the center of the bed. If one of them could be brought to whichever room you assign me, I would be grateful.” He slipped a small string of silver cash off his wrist and handed it to Kittu. “This should pay for the bath and the extra service we may require.”
Kittu took it at once. “You are a generous man, Worthy Foreigner.”
Zangi-Ragozh shook his head. “I have been about the world a little, and I know how demanding hardship can be.”
Kittu looked a bit startled. “Hardship?”
“This cold spring is a hardship, and one that will not be quickly settled. I saw frost on the ground this morning, and it will probably still be here in the Fortnight of the Thunder God, which is almost upon us; it may last into the Fortnight of the Descent of Kuan-Te.” Zangi-Ragozh shook his head.
“Ordinarily we call that the Fortnight of the Desert’s Breath,” said Kittu. “Not this year. As you say.”
“What do you hear from other travelers?” Zangi-Ragozh asked.
“I have seen so few travelers! They say some of the passes are still blocked with snow, as if it were late winter, and others have reported landslides on the road near Miran.” Kittu shrugged. “The merchants coming on the northern branch of the Silk Road have not yet arrived, so who can tell what they may have encountered.” He nodded. “I will tell my slaves to heat the bath, and I’ll have Hagai and Jinje bring that chest to whichever of the two rooms you choose.”
“Very good,” said Zangi-Ragozh. “And my traveling companion will go in search of his dinner.”
Ro-shei dropped his voice and said in Byzantine Greek, “When you’re done bathing and I’m finished eating, you may look to your own nourishment.”
“So I will,” said Zangi-Ragozh.
“What did he say?” Kittu challenged, holding up his thick hand to show how serious he was. “I won’t have any barbarian nonsense in my inn.”
Zangi-Ragozh offered a brief, charming smile. “He was only reminding me to choose my woman carefully.”
“Oh, very good advice,” Kittu approved, and wondered why Zangi-Ragozh had smiled as he led the two foreigners to their rooms.
Text of a letter from the clerk Hu Bi-Da, in Yang-Chau, to his employer, the foreign merchant, in Chang’an; carried by courier but never delivered.
To the most excellent employer and Worthy Foreigner, Zangi-Ragozh, currently in Chang’an, his clerk, Hu Bi-Da, sends his most respectful greetings and the condolences in regard to the matters upon which I write to inform you.
It is my sad duty to tell you that your merchant ship
The Shining Pearl,
which had been reported missing, has been sunk. No man aboard her and no scrap of cargo was saved. This has been confirmed by two separate sources, neither of which may easily be impeached for accuracy or honesty. I have taken full accounts from the two Captains who have made this claim, and I am satisfied that their accounts are alike enough to show that they have not mistaken their information, nor have they done anything in the way of collusion together, to deceive or defraud you. The loss of the ship is a great one, and I must tell you that the settlement you have authorized for the family of the Captain will mean that none of the children need be sold, which must be a very welcome thing to his two wives. Yet I fear this may only be the first of many losses to come
.
The Shining Pearl,
which had been reported missing, has been sunk. No man aboard her and no scrap of cargo was saved. This has been confirmed by two separate sources, neither of which may easily be impeached for accuracy or honesty. I have taken full accounts from the two Captains who have made this claim, and I am satisfied that their accounts are alike enough to show that they have not mistaken their information, nor have they done anything in the way of collusion together, to deceive or defraud you. The loss of the ship is a great one, and I must tell you that the settlement you have authorized for the family of the Captain will mean that none of the children need be sold, which must be a very welcome thing to his two wives. Yet I fear this may only be the first of many losses to come
.
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